


Exile

by Xairathan



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xairathan/pseuds/Xairathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Lana-centric fic regarding her thoughts on having to flee the Empire with Theron Shan and Jakarro. Written for zemissinglinkus on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exile

Blonde Sith are few and far between, a thought that echoes painfully through Lana Beniko's head as she searches for lodging on Tatooine. She left Theron Shan and the wookie Jakarro behind in their ship, on the grounds that Imperials would be far too suspicious of a Wookie, and Shan was probably on the Most Wanted lists of Imperial officers. That leaves her to go into Mos Ila alone, abandoning her trademark green cloak for a red and white hoodie that hides all but several strands of her blonde hair.

 

The housing office on Imperial Tatooine is set up in a small hovel made of mud. A hassled-looking woman works the counter, fielding inquiries from a Jawa, an Imperial soldier, and what looks like a small band of bounty hunters: Lana can tell from the heavy-duty blasters and thermal detonators on their bandoliers. She skirts around them nervously and sidles up against a wall to check the price of houses in the area. Most of the larger homesteads have been bought out by aspiring servants of the Empire, but several smaller huts in the four-digit range catch her eye.

 

As Lana continues to browse the holodisplays on the walls, snippets of conversation float, unbidden, to her ears. It's a side-effect of being Force-sensitive, this acute hearing, but when she hears her name, the Sith blocks out the rest of the world and homes in on that one voice.

 

"-that Lana Beniko would kill Darth Arkous and run," one of the bounty hunters is saying. "And that she would team up with a Pub, to boot!"

 

"Well you know them Sith politics," another hunter growls; Trandoshan. "Kill and kill to get to the top... their _Jagannath_ must be very high, yes... bringing down Beniko will most certainly earn favor in the Scorekeeper's eyes!"

 

"Forget your hokey religion," the first hunter chortles. "Five million credits! A top-tier apartment in Dromund Kaas! The Emperor's favor, and the glory to boot! We could live like kings!"

 

Despite her cold exterior, Lana can't help but flinch internally as those words throw themselves against the soft cloth covering her body, which is nothing like the armor she's accustomed to. In that armor, she felt like she could shrug away what the world sent at her. Now, she's open. Vulnerable. And what she's just heard confirms she's nothing more than a trophy and a number to the rest of the galaxy at large.

 

_I was doing the galaxy a favor_ , she reminds herself. _If I hadn't called them in when I had... If Arkous had gotten away with it..._

 

"-Ma'am?" the clerk from before is approaching, gently touching her shoulder; Lana flinches back, and her hood lurches along with her. Golden light reflects off her hair for a split second before she can wrench the hood back up with both hands, masking her startled expression as she does so.

 

"Yes?" Lana replies in a gruff, deep voice.

"I was just wondering, ma'am, if there was anything I could help you with."

 

"Just looking." Lana turns away and pretends to be interested in another set of housing, angry at herself for being so focused on the hunters' conversation that she had forgotten to keep track of her surroundings. _If anyone had tried to kill me right then, I could be dead_. On a hunch, Lana extends her presence further into her surroundings, and suddenly she feels the tell-tale aura of someone on a hunt.

 

At first she thinks she's been found, and whirls around to glance at the two hunters she had been eavesdropping on, but they're already gone: probably seeking their fortunes in the searing desert. A bit of prodding, and Lana comes away with the name Sharack Breev. She'll get Theron to look into that later, but for now she has to get out of Mos Ila while she still can.

 

Breev trails her far into the Dune Sea, where she had Jakarro land the ship, and it's there that Lana makes her move: she jumps on the Imperial agent while she still can, stunning her with a blow that knocks her unconscious. Killing her would only alert the Imperials to her presence on Tatooine, so instead she mind-rubs the female before drawing her robes about herself and making a mad dash for the shuttle.

 

As soon as Lana's aboard she's ordering Jakarro to take off; Theron's asking what's wrong, but she pushes him aside with a wave of her hand and a minor exertion in the Force. She makes it to her quarters in what she hopes was a dignified run, and it's there that she allows herself to unravel upon the small cot that is her bed. _Now what?_ she thinks to herself. In the past, she has always looked to leadership to guide her: first Arkous, then Theron and her partner. Now, all she has is herself to trust, and even now she can't bring herself to do that.

 

Unbidden, her hand reaches for the datapad that lies to her side. Her fingers skid across the surface in jerky motions, tapping out a message to the partner that is probably somewhere in the heart of the Empire, keeping Lana's secret close to their chest, along with the rest of their... dare she think it?- relationship.

 

The Sith shoves the datapad aside; the screen cracks, rendering it useless. Weakness cannot be shown, not even once, as long as the entire galaxy is after them. She is Sith; Theron is resourceful; Jakarro is powerful, and together the three of them can overcome capture until justice can be served. She knows that. And Sith work alone, for themselves.

 

Even so, Lana cannot help but wonder, as her eyes flutter shut, if siding against Arkous was a huge mistake after all. Perhaps, if she is lucky and lives to see the day, her partner will manage to prove her wrong. She certainly hopes so.


End file.
